Empty Nester 07 - Happily Ever After
A horny MILF finds peace and contentment
Author's note: This story is the seventh and final chapter in a series titled "Empty Nester." The first story set the stage for all the remaining chapters of this adventure. All future stories will continue to chronicle the events of these three lovers. It would be best to read them in order. All characters are fictional, consenting, and over the age of 18. This story is a complete figment of my imagination and not based on any real events or characters. I love to read comments as long as they are constructive.
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I just stood in the parking lot and watched as Tyler and Sharon drove out of sight. Surely Tyler could put the pieces together on his own and would have known that I had just experienced a magical lovemaking session with his beautiful wife. I wondered if he would be upset, jealous perhaps, or was he as accepting as George was when he let me experiment with Marcy and Charlie, not that he didn't also reap the benefits. Men should understand that some women simply need to experience the caring intimacy of another woman.
I anxiously searched my purse for my car keys as a silent panic coursed through my veins. "They should be right here in this small pocket," my brain reasoned as my fingers frantically hunted. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of my car with the contents of my purse scattered across the hood. They weren't there.
I dashed back to the dressing room, remembering that my purse was knocked over during my orgasmic clumsiness. My panic subsided slightly as pleasurable memories of that special moment with Sharon flooded my brain. I could feel my heart racing, very likely a combination of the lustful memory and my current situation. A quick check with the sales lady and the lost and found desk both revealed nothing. I was stranded. God was punishing me.
When I retrieved my phone to call George, I noticed a missed call from Dr. Teresa's office. I clicked on the number, only to hear a message indicating they were closed for lunch between the hours of twelve and one-thirty. Now, I was not only panicking, but extremely annoyed. Would it be that difficult for someone to just answer the damn phone.
"Get a grip," I counseled myself as I aimlessly wandered the cavernous mall in search of the security office. "Just file a report and schedule an Uber," my rational mind reasoned. "Surely, they could somehow keep someone from stealing my car from the parking lot."
The signs directed me to a small side hallway just past the public restrooms. I couldn't help but to chuckle as I walked past the "Closed for Cleaning" sign in front of the women's restroom. My mind flashed to Marcy and I in that nasty truck stop restroom when I made up the story that had Marcy fucking the lucky young male attendant. I almost peeked my head inside just to see if it was a guy or gal doing the cleaning.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I grumbled allowed when I saw the sign indicating the security office was closed for lunch. I guessed that meant that the criminals were all taking a break as well. How fucking ridiculous. I was getting hungry though, and since I was not exactly in a position to drive to a normal restaurant, I would have to settle for some kind of shopping mall food court delicacy. Just one more sign from above.
As I stood in line to order a corn dog and lemonade, I wondered if my car insurance would cover theft in a situation like this. I couldn't help but chuckle as I imagined filling out a police report that detailed exactly how the keys made their way out of my purse. In that moment of reflection, I could almost feel Sharon's fingers slipping sensually inside me, her thumb pressing on my clit, her teeth gently grazing my hard nipple. The distraction not only helped to calm my nerves, it re-ignited that special fire deep inside me.
"Sweetie, the restrooms are right over there," a lovely elderly lady behind me whispered as she pointed. "I can save your place in line if you would like."
At first, I was confused by her offer, I didn't have to use the restroom. Then I realized that I had my legs crossed and my thighs pressed tightly together as my butt gently bounced. It wasn't the sensation of a full bladder that sent my body subconsciously into pee-pee dance mode. No, it was something so much more personal, and there were no panties to help wick it away. I just smiled at the thoughtful lady.
After I ordered, I considered making my way to the restroom and wadding up some toilet paper as a makeshift solution to my leaky situation. It could, after all, be the start of my period that I was feeling spread over my crotch. The material of my lighter colored pants most certainly wouldn't hide that kind of embarrassment. Could this day possibly get any worse?
Before I could act, the young lady behind the counter called my number and stood impatiently waiting for someone to claim the food. I took a deep breath and carefully made my way to the counter. I was shuffling my feet in an attempt to keep my thighs tightly together and hopefully minimize any additional leakage. When I spotted the stack of paper napkins on the counter, I suddenly had an idea.
The small table that I selected was in a fairly isolated location of the food court that offered a seat with my back to everyone. Before you judge me, just remember, I was feeling a bit desperate, so yes, I did covertly stuff a stack of napkins in my pants. I'm not proud of what I did, but I can assure you that no one was even remotely aware. Besides, now I could try and enjoy my corn dog without worrying. I mean seriously, it wasn't like I had a jacket or sweatshirt to drape around my waist, so what choice did I have. What happened next only proved that my decision was the correct one.
"Would you mind if I sit with you?" The little old lady from the line asked as the tap of her cane approached. "I just hate to eat alone."